


I Know What You Did in the Cat-acombs

by GalahadWilder, Maggies_Scribblings, noirshitsuji, serendipitousReckonings



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Identity Reveal, Adrinette | Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Claustrophobia, Crying, F/M, Fluff, Halloween, Horror movie references, Humour, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Implied Miracuclass, Ladynoir | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng as Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Finds Out First, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Identity Reveal, Movie Reference, Panic Attacks, Parisian Catacombs, Running, Xavier Ramier's Brother, akuma fight, alternative universe, catacombs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:20:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27368686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalahadWilder/pseuds/GalahadWilder, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maggies_Scribblings/pseuds/Maggies_Scribblings, https://archiveofourown.org/users/noirshitsuji/pseuds/noirshitsuji, https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipitousReckonings/pseuds/serendipitousReckonings
Summary: Two part-time superheroes get lost in the creepy catacombs, but spooky skeletons, rabid rats and akuma apparitions are the least of their problems.Written for theML Writer's Guild's October 2020 Event, for the prompt 'Haunted House'.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 13
Kudos: 178
Collections: Miraculous Writer's Guild October Event 2020





	I Know What You Did in the Cat-acombs

Marinette hated Akuma alerts during school with every single inch of her body... but if one _had_ to come during school hours, she was grateful that it was during a field trip. Between helping Mme. Bustier with managing the class and trying not to trip over herself around Adrien, she was looking forward to the end of their museum visit, however it came to be. There was a slight catch about that — they weren’t visiting your regular, run of the mill, art or science museum… they were down in the Paris Catacombs. The screaming had been, at first, a nice, joking touch to the atmosphere in a “Ha ha, it’s Halloween, let’s scare the school children” kind of way, but the longer it went on, and the more realistic they started to sound, the more Marinette began to worry. At first she thought that it had come from the set of the horror movie they'd seen filming earlier, across the street from the entrance — it was only once the sirens began to go off that Marinette realized: that screaming wasn’t just for fun. 

“Everybody, please, proceed to the exit _calmly_ ,” the tour guide said, very much _not calmly_ , which had the fortunate-for-Marinette result of making everybody run towards the exit. 

Step by step, she moved to the end of the group, making sure she was the last of the visitors, before running down the stairs back into the crypt. Ducking into a side hallway, she’d almost breathed a sigh of relief when she caught a pair of green eyes staring back at her in the gloom.

She shrieked as her heart exploded in her chest, pinwheeling backward, the heel of her foot catching on something—she wasn’t sure whether it was a stone or a _bone_ , and she wasn’t sure she _wanted_ to know—and pitching her to the ground.

“Marinette, are you alright?” asked the love of her–her _very good friend–_

“A— alright?” she answered after her heart slowed a little, “S-sure, I’m fine… Perfect, really… is it hot in here?”

Adrien tilted his head to the side questioningly, “I think the guide said it stays around… 14 degrees Celsius down here?”

Marinette swallowed, trying to think of ways to avoid touching his hand so that he couldn’t feel her racing pulse. Luckily for her (although she’d only come to think of it like that later), it was at this point that a rat skid past her and she jumped up straight on her own, screeching. _Un_ luckily, she ended up grabbing onto Adrien’s leg for dear life. She scrabbled at the denim fabric in her grip, trying desperately to _get away get away get away_ from the rat.

“You, uh, scared of rats, Mari?” Adrien teased, indulgently leaning a bit so that she wouldn’t pull him to the ground.

It was very likely the combined mortification, stress, and fear (and, she would later reflect, his tone of voice) that prompted her to respond in a way she’d only ever talked to Chat. 

“O-of course not, silly,” she said as she got up and brushed the dust ( _ew, human bone dust, ew_ ), “ I just… it startled me, that’s all!” She huffed, trying to ignore his barely restrained mirth and made as if to go towards the exit. She’d come back this way to transform, but she couldn’t very well go farther _into_ the catacombs if Adrien was looking at her—not without arousing suspicion.

Her luck really seemed to be on point that day, though, because it was at this moment that a raven emerged from the tunnel ahead of them.

“ _Too scary_ , they said, _too gory_ ,” a terrifying voice reverberated within the walls, “I’ll show you how scary real life can be!” 

Despite her previous bravado, Marinette couldn’t help but flinch as the voice echoed around them chillingly. The rest of Paris may have started to view Akuma attacks as minor nuisances thanks to Ladybug always being on-hand to clean up… but Marinette _was_ Ladybug: she didn’t have that luxury. 

Before doing anything as Ladybug, though, she needed to make sure Adrien was safe. Marinette turned around to find him frozen in place with a terrified look in his eyes, reminding her of his fear of confined spaces. Before giving it a second thought she’d grabbed his hand and taken off farther into the catacombs and away from the raven.

❦

“Where are we going?” she heard Adrien shout a full two minutes of running later.

"Somewhere you'll be safe," she replied without thinking, turning another corner at top speed.

Finding a place to hide in the dark was a true challenge, with the akuma’s disembodied voice surrounding them and the raven in unrelenting pursuit, throwing — were those _feathers_?

"Marinette, watch out!" He cried out, pushing her up against the wall as a feather whizzed past her face in a narrow miss.

She stood for a moment, frozen and shaken by both the impact on her body—and by the burning touch of Adrien’s skin on hers. It felt like her bones were vibrating.

“Are you okay?” he said, his criminally-soft eyes locked on hers. “Did it get you?”

It took Marinette a full five seconds to unscramble her brains and find her voice enough to answer—but by that time, the raven was already upon them.

“Look out!” she yelped, reaching for her yoyo– _no, no, untransformed_ –but in her pocket–

Marinette threw her phone at the bird as hard as she could, hitting it square in the face. It screeched as it veered off course, hitting the wall on the opposite side of the narrow tunnel. She wasted no time in moving past Adrien, snatching the device back, grabbing his hand, and sprinting back down the tunnels again.

After a few more minutes of running, they stopped to catch their breath, and only then did she lift the screen to her face to see if it had been damaged.

She was horrified to see a sequence of grainy black and white footage — a bright white ring, a woman in a mirror combing her hair, finally a mossy well with someone climbing out of it. 

Adrien, who was looking over her shoulder, made her jump as he exclaimed in recognition. 

“Wait, I know that! It’s from that movie… Ringu?” Marinette shook her head, puzzled. “They made a remake, The Ring, but the Japanese is so much better—”

“No, I hate horror movies, I can’t even watch Scooby—” she was interrupted by a rusty old gate slamming closed behind them. “Wait, Adrien... what scares you… really scares you?”

He scratched his neck sheepishly for a moment, “Mmm… Not exactly anything that could hurt us here, I think..? Mostly I’m worried about getting you out of here safely.” If she hadn’t already been crouched against the wall, Marinette probably would have fainted at the sincerity in his voice. In a desperate attempt to change the subject, she shoved her phone into his hands.

“H-Here! You hold onto it for now. I can’t - I can’t _stand_ spooky stuff like this and holding onto it will just be a distraction. We’ve got to focus up and get away from that stupid bird!” She stood and offered her hand to Adrien, the nervous fluttering of her heart at his touch mixed unpleasantly with the churning fear of her stomach.

“Um,” Adrien said, “if you can’t stand spooky stuff… you might want to close your eyes.”

That was, it turned out, exactly the wrong thing to say. In all the confusion and running, Marinette had managed to forget where, exactly, they were—it had just been a set of tunnels, a labyrinth to escape into. But with Adrien’s words, Marinette’s world shocked back into place as she looked past him, to the wall, and right into chillingly empty eye sockets, and remembered: _the Paris Catacombs were full of bones._

Her fingers crushed down on Adrien’s wrist as her ice shot up her veins.

“Marinette,” he said, “Marinette, my wrist–”

She pulled her hand back to herself to cradle it against her chest, still unable to look away from the skull behind Adrien’s shoulder. She did, however, notice said shoulder rise and move towards her out of her periphery, and when a now-familiar embrace enveloped her, she didn’t jump back, but rather snaked her arms around it and held on for dear life.

He started whispering in her ear: “It’s alright, it can’t hurt you, I’m–” 

And just as she was about to relax, she felt something light run over her shoe and _oh, oh no–_

Adrien almost fell backwards when Marinette literally climbed up his body.

“Ew, ew, ew, get away from me, stupid rat,” she shouted, thoughtlessly grabbing at his shirt, his neck, his hair.

“It seems you _are_ afraid of rodents, after all,” Adrien joked nervously, adjusting her position to a bridal hold so her feet wouldn’t touch the ground, “I’d never have guessed that, Mul—I mean, Marinette.”

“I’m not afraid of them, they’re just gross is all.” She could feel her pulse racing, and not just from the scare, but made no effort to get back down on the floor. “I actually love hamsters—Wait…” Marinette heard a gulping sound and looked around, but the rat was gone. The chill that ran down her spine was for a very _different_ reason this time.

“When?” Her voice came out harsh and shrill, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “When did I get up here? U-Um! Not! N-Not that I’m complaining!” She could feel his chuckle reverberate through his chest.

“You kind of helped yourself.” He gave her an apologetic smile, causing her to blush. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” 

“I… Sorry. I didn’t even realize I was doing that… Um. I should be okay… Probably… Do you still have the map the guide handed out at the beginning of the tour? Alya has my copy and it might at least give us an idea of where to go.”

“Oh, I… yeah,” Adrien said, patting his pockets. “I—I think I have it h-here...”

Marinette’s breath caught in her throat. “Adrien—you’re shaking,” she said.

Adrien froze, hand in his pocket. “I—I don’t—I don’t know what you’re talking about?” he said.

His eyes were shifting rapidly, though, as if looking for a door somewhere in the narrow tunnel–

_Adrien,_ Marinette thought, _whose room is at least three meters taller than a normal one, with an approximate surface area higher than that of most Parisian apartments. God, I’ve been a_ **_fool_ ** _._

“Adrien,” she said, taking a step back to give him slightly more space. “Are you claustrophobic?”

He started shaking his head vigorously, but couldn’t seem to be able to steady his voice enough for a retort.

That was enough of an answer. Marinette recalled Adrien’s words back in the Louvre some time back. 

_‘I hate to be locked up.’_

Putting aside her own fears and inhibitions, she put on her bravest face and held him just like he had done for her before. 

“Look at me, Adrien,” she said, pulling away as soon as she felt his body relax, “we’re getting out of here, I promise.”

Even in the dim lighting, she could see Adrien's jaw working as he continued to try to calm himself. He gave her a nod and a tight smile, finally managing to free the map from his pocket with shaking hands. Clearing his throat, he said, "I… I think the last landmark I remember seeing was this _Crypte du Sacellum…_ but that was a little while ago… So we're probably somewhere around here… maybe?" He gestured to a small loop in the map.

"You're right… I remember that, but I think we must've ducked down one of the service tunnels. We definitely weren't on such a straight path after that… Don't worry, we'll figure it out. If we can make it to _any_ landmark on the map, we should be able to get out no problem." 

❦

Adrien was grateful that Marinette was the one looking after the map, because the rising blood pressure in his ears and the shaking of his limbs made it hard to focus on anything else—aside from the nagging feeling that there should _definitely_ have been more rats down here than they’d seen. As soon as he thought this, a loud (to his attuned ‘cat’ senses, anyway) crunch resounded from behind him, and he turned around to see Plagg munching on what looked like a _tail._

Adrien stared at Plagg. The kwami stared back, indifferent, and slurped the tail all the way into his mouth.

“Adrien, why did you stop?” he heard Marinette call from behind him and turned to see a concerned expression on her face.

“I–I thought I heard something, s-sorry,” he said, gritting his teeth so as not to worry her with his still-trembling voice.

Great, now he was terrified _and_ nauseous, and where was Ladybug? His stomach churned as he imagined Ladybug fighting whatever was out there _alone_. He trusted her strength and wits to handle any problem on her own, but felt the guilt and responsibility to just be there for her. Especially after what had happened in New York. 

He noticed he was hyperventilating and _had to stop, breathe, holding Marinette again would be nice, but I need to get out, I need to see the sky and breathe and transform, and save Marinette, and help Ladybug, and…_

He jumped as a pale hand waved gently in front of his face. Suddenly, he found himself kneeling in the narrow passage, arms wrapped tightly around himself as though he were trying to keep himself from shaking apart. Marinette was clearly trying to get his attention but he couldn’t hear her over the pounding of his pulse in his ears.

Soft hands came up to cup his cheeks as she tilted his head up to look at her, “-kay if I hold you? Or would that be too much?” Her voice sounded far away and muffled, but still, he heard her; without another word he launched himself into her arms, knocking her off balance.

“I’m—I’m—I’m okay,” he gasped, not even sounding convincing to himself. He could feel the crushing weight of five stories of earth and rock pushing down over his head. He was stuck down here, stuck maybe _miles_ away from his Lady with nothing but Marinette, an ancient and indescribable force of destruction in the shape of a ravenous black cat, and six million dead—and with every pulse of blood through his head, he could swear he saw another one of them _move_.

“You’re… definitely not,” Marinette said. Her palms pressed to his temples, firm yet gentle. “Hey. Breathe with me, okay?”

Adrien tried to anchor himself to Marinette’s hands and follow her through the deep breaths she was taking – _inhale, hold, exhale, hold, inhale,_ – and his head was still spinning but he could feel his lungs open up ever so slightly, then a tingle, then–

–a sneeze.

He whipped his head around, arm raising automatically to swat the feather that had floated alarmingly close while Marinette had been helping him through his breakdown. The walls echoed with the akuma’s cries as he jumped to his feet, adrenaline adding itself to the dizzying concoction of hormones already muddling his brain, and started running. He didn’t even realize he had caught Marinette’s hand in his left one and dragged her with him until they were five corridors away. He stopped, abruptly, raising his right hand again to prevent himself from smacking into the wall–

–and saw nothing there.

The weight that was _just_ starting to lift from his stomach came tumbling down tenfold, bringing him down on his knees. 

“My hand, my hand–oh God, _my ring_ –”

Marinette stopped and gave him a perplexed look. To his surprise, she did not scream.

“What are you talking about? Is your hand hurt?”

“My hand is _gone_ !” Adrien waved his maimed arm in front of her face. “And my ring—” Plagg was gone. _Plagg was gone!_

Marinette caught his wrist deftly and held it up between them. "Breathe, Adrien. I can see your hand and your ring! You're okay. We're going to be o-" He wrenched his arm from her in a panic. 

"Marinette! We're not! _I’m_ not… If I can’t transform I- I need to get out to help her! Ladybug will never be able to find us down here! And my hand is gone! My ring is gone! _Plagg_ is gone!” He clutched at his head, a few stray tears dripping down his nose. “I _can’t_ do this…”

“Adrien, we’re gonna be—” Marinette stopped mid-sentence, froze, biting her lip. “Did you just say… Plagg?”

Adrien hugged his chest, trying to keep the chill out, rocking gently against the bones. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he dimly remembered she’d recognize that name—she’d wielded Plagg as Multimouse, after all.

“It’s not–I–I–” the added panic of having betrayed Ladybug’s trust as regards their secret identities did _not_ help his situation. Adrien cursed himself for being unable to deny the truth she already probably suspected. 

“Adrien,” he felt her hands on his shoulders, “Adrien, listen to me– _Chaton–_ ”

The world stopped spinning.

“Adrien, we need to–oh, to hell with it, Tikki, _spots on_!”

At the same time as a flash of pink light briefly illuminated his eerie surroundings, Adrien felt a weight lifted off his shoulders and a tiny paw under his chin to close his mouth. 

“Come on, kid, we have work to do,” Plagg said as he hovered in front of his eyes. 

“Bu-but— Ladybug? M-Marinette? Plagg!” Adrien gasped, hugging the kwami to his wet cheek.

Once again he felt Marinette— no, Ladybug’s steady hands on his shoulders, lifting him from the darkness he was spiraling into.

“It’s alright, Adrien. We’ll get out of here. The two of us against the world, remember?”

Adrien’s brain exploded as fire traced down his face with the brush of her gloved fingers. Ladybug—she was—she was _Ladybug_ , Marinette was—Ladybug was—she was—

“Did—did you just—blow your identity,” Adrien gasped, his entire body burning, “because _I was having a panic attack?”_

Ladybug—no, _Marinette’s_ —eyes sparkled with tears. “You’re my partner,” she said with a tiny, wavering smile. “What else could I do?”

Adrien nodded, gritting his teeth as he shakily stood up. Holding Plagg up in his left palm he met the tiny kwami’s mischievous gaze. “What’s the magic wo~ords?”

That got a small chuckle out of Adrien before he managed to say, “Plagg, _claws out_!” As the wave of magic rushed over him, he felt immensely reassured, Ladybug’s presence no small comfort either.

He grinned. “What’s the plan, My Lady?” he said.

Ladybug looked upward. “Well, the Akuma’s up there,” she said. She looked back down at him. “And we have about six stories of ground between him and us.” He could hear the smirk in his lady’s voice. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Chat Noir wasn’t as good as Ladybug at battle tactics, but Adrien was _definitely_ better than Marinette at physics, and luckily for both of them, not all of the walls in the corridor looked like they were essential to the support of the ceiling. “Of course.” He turned to see her smile and _oh, I can see it now–_

Chat forced himself to snap out of his reverie; that could come later. First, they had a job to do.

“Cataclysm!”

The terror that dominated Adrien just moments ago gave way to the cheerfulness of Chat Noir as he pulled Ladybug into his arms with a grin and a wink. “Hold tight, LB!” he said. “It’s gonna be a bumpy ride.”

He was surprised to notice her blushing profusely — she’d never done that when he touched her before, or at least not as Ladybug — but filed that information in for later.

With his left hand, he expanded his baton at full speed, his Cataclysm tearing up a tunnel to the surface, burying the catacombs behind them. 

The scene outside wasn't much better, with hundreds of black ravens darkening the sky, forming spirals and clouds like an amped-up flock of starlings. It was still better than being _down there._ He took a deep, relieved breath of fresh air and prepared for battle. 

People were running around, terrified. Some were frozen looking at their phone screens or shouting that limbs were missing just like they had earlier, but there were other manifestations. 

The film crew they’d seen before the school visit was the most affected. There was a young man holding two styrofoam cups of coffee, shouting he couldn’t go to sleep or he would die. The lead actress was lying on the ground, screaming as she looked in a mirror: “My face! It’s repulsive!” 

The man with a black beret, probably the director, was cowering away from another invisible threat, murmuring, “Yes master… anything you say, master. You are the boss, master…”

Some of their schoolmates were wandering around the battle zone; some walking slowly like zombies, others cackling like witches, some even biting into random necks.

“It’s horrible, A—Chat Noir!” Ladybug said, stumbling over his name. “We let this go on too long—we need to end this _right now_!”

He released her, placing her gently on the ground. “We’re on the clock, too,” he said, showing his ring as one pad blinked down.

“I am GorrorLord, and I will make you _fear!_ ” a booming voice reverberated across crossroads, as a man dressed like Edgar Allan Poe and drenched in what appeared to be fake blood and sausages appeared out of the mass of ravens, held aloft by the birds. “Ladybug and Chat Noir! I wondered when you’d show up!” He grinned a slasher smile, so Chat could see the red flecks on his teeth. “I assumed you were just too scared to face me.”

Chat’s eyes met Ladybug, and with a mutual nod— _I’ll distract him, you’ve got this_ —he charged the Akuma. “GorrorLord?” he said, batting through the ravens as they screeched into his face. “What kind of name is that?”

“I am the Lord of Horror!” the Akuma crowed, gesturing with a packet of pages he held in his right hand. “But with Gore!” He slapped the packet with his empty palm. “They’ll never deny my vision again!”

Chat tilted his head as he smacked another bird into the ground. “Oh, GORE-or lord!” he said. “That is just… the _worst_ pun.”

“Oh, and you could have done better?” the Akuma sneered, drifting closer to Chat.

_That’s right, get in range,_ Chat thought. “Yeah,” he said, his voice growing quieter (enticing the Akuma to drift closer just to hear him). “With a getup like that, you could’ve been an Edgar Allan _Pro!”_

On the last syllable, he launched himself at the Akuma, who barely dodged away from Chat’s claws in time to avoid damage to his clothing.

Chat grinned as he hit the ground, holding up a claw full of scraps of red cravat. “Which of us is the Scaredy _Cat_ again?”

“Insolent _pest!_ ” GorrorLord screamed, slamming a raven full-force into Chat’s chest and throwing him backward.

Chat landed deftly on all fours as cats do. “No, the pest is the other one,” he said. “You know, the small one? With the pigtails?” He looked down, checking to see what other body parts he was “missing” from this raven strike.

None, apparently. Maybe black cats were just “horror” enough? Or maybe Plagg was just that scary.

He took a moment to glance back at Ladybug, who was flitting from cover to cover, just outside of GorrorLord’s field of view. He flicked his eyes meaningfully toward the packet in his hands—the only thing he had that stood out.

Ladybug nodded, throwing her arm to the sky. “Lucky Charm!” 

He turned to see her looking confused as an old-timey director’s bullhorn fell into her hands, but in just a second, he watched her look around for a solution and turn her face into _“I know exactly what to do”_ mode. 

An unwitting _“I love her so much!”_ almost escaped his lips. Later. They would talk later. 

He was awakened from his momentary daydream by Ladybug’s amplified shout. “Cover your ears, Kitty!” she yelled. “All four of them!”

Chat grimaced and braced, his cat ears flattening as his palms covered his human ones.

Ladybug grinned and lifted the bullhorn to her lips. “AAAND CUT!” she screamed, her amplified voice filling the square and shaking his very ribs, knocking a few ravens backward away from her. “IT’S A WRAP! ”

The ravens screamed in distress and pain, dispersing in all directions. Their leader hit the ground hard, off-balance from both the loss of his mounts and the force of Ladybug’s voice—and in that moment, Ladybug whipped her yo-yo past him, wrapping it around his arms.

“Grab it!” she cried.

Chat nodded, dropping his head and charging at the Akuma, clotheslining him across the chin and tackling the now-defenseless GorrorLord to the ground. Before either of them had time to recover their breath, Chat yanked the bloody binder full of papers and sticky notes from the Akuma’s hand, holding it up for Ladybug to grab.

The title was clearly visible on the cover, in rugged, splattered type.

SCÉNARIO

————————————————

**LES CORBEAUX DE LA MORT**

————————————————

© GORDON RAMIER

Ladybug snatched the folder from his hand and yanked on the alternating covers, tearing the book at the spine. In the blink of an eye, there was a white butterfly fluttering away in the breeze, and a wrinkled GorrorLord’s form dissolved into a confused looking man with a beaklike nose in a wrinkled suit - the manuscript for the film scattered around him. 

With a quick “Miraculous Ladybug!” everything around them was back to its normal state. The set was righted, all its denizens standing up as if waking from a dream, and the catacombs and the street above were fixed as well. Before Ladybug - _Marinette!!_ \- could hold out her fist for their usual “Bien joue,” he was wrapping her up in a crushing hug.

“We _did_ it! Ma-My Lady, we did it!” He crowed triumphantly, swinging her around through the rush of his own euphoria.

“Woah woah! Chat, calm down!” She giggled. “Put me down!” Her face almost matched her suit but even then her voice was tinged with laughter. 

He buried his face in her neck, tickling her with his nose and causing her to shriek, then wobbled to a halt. When they stopped moving, though, he didn’t let go.

“Chat?” she said, voice uncertain.

He couldn’t help it; the sniffle came out audible.

“Adrien?” she whispered, sounding more worried than before.

“I just,” he stopped, then, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm his heart and his mind enough to process everything that had happened in the past hour ( _was it really just that much?_ ), and she seemed to get it; she didn’t move, but squeezed him a bit tighter. “It’s...I’m so happy it’s you. You have no _idea_ how happy I am it’s you.”

Another sniffle came out; this time, not his.

Chat could hear the police sirens in the distance too, though, as well as the distinct sound of Nadja Chamack’s helicopter, so as much as he wanted to stay in this strange embrace of happiness and exhaustion and– _something more–_

He raised his head from her shoulder and pulled back from her arms. Her eyes were slightly glassy. “We need to go,” she murmured, downcast. He simply nodded, extending his baton again as she stretched out her yo-yo; he didn’t know what would come out of his mouth if he tried for words. However much, it would still be too little; his thoughts – _the two of them –_ were too tangled to make sense of in anything less than a few hundred thousand words on his own.

But as they detransformed a block away from the battle and the rest of their classmates, as Adrien saw the same eyes he’d been finding unwavering trust and dreams in for so long fill in with the sort of quiet adoration he remembered from his mother–

_–Oh._

He dimly realized Marinette had raised her fist. He bumped it with his, metal pushing against his skin, eyes darting to the dark cabochons in her ears and back to her eyes.

“Well-played,” she murmured, her smile more genuine and soft than he could ever remember seeing it.

(He wasn’t alone anymore, was he?)

Adrien grinned and opened his hand to catch hers in it. She blinked at their interlocked fingers and flushed.

_You and me against the world, huh,_ he thought, feeling dizzy from an impossible sort of happiness he couldn’t quite define. “Come on, they’ll be worried about us,” he said as he pulled Marinette in a run beside him. It seemed to catch her by surprise, but then she laughed and sped up and then _he_ was the one being dragged behind. Adrien would have protested if he could stop chuckling.

_I like these odds._


End file.
